


유감 (Regret)

by thelittleprincedks, xiubaekist



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: M/M, Mild Gore, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-17
Updated: 2019-01-17
Packaged: 2019-10-11 14:06:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17448416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelittleprincedks/pseuds/thelittleprincedks, https://archiveofourown.org/users/xiubaekist/pseuds/xiubaekist
Summary: After a long time of their relationship falling apart, Kyungsoo and Jongin have a serious fight. Kyungsoo's last words before Jongin leaves him are "I don’t want to ever see you again, even if it’s at your funeral", but here is Kyungsoo, at Jongin's funeral.





	유감 (Regret)

**Author's Note:**

> [Written for the little prince fic fest, prompt #120]

If there was a map for Kyungsoo’s life, there would be a red arrow pointing to where he is right now. He is here, on the corner of 46-11 and 46-12, Hongjukri, Baekseog-eup, Yangju-si, Gyeonggi-do, South Korea. He is dressed in an all black suit with an emotionless expression on his face and a tattered picture in his hand. He’s not allowed to show emotion —h is culture doesn’t allow it.

So as Do Kyungsoo, twenty-five years old, stands over the dead body of his husband Kim Jongin, twenty-four, he can only listen to the sobbing noises of the women surrounding him in the room. He, and the rest of Jongin’s male acquaintances, family members, and co-workers can only stand cold. Tears may not well at the edges of their eyes, as that is weakness — and men aren’t weak.

 

The story of how Do Kyungsoo got here is a twisted tragedy. Retracing his steps on the map, he can go back to the exact moment that said tragedy began.

 

_ August 13th, 2017 _

 

It’s the end of summer and the scent of pumpkin and fall leaves twirl around Kyungsoo’s head as he opens his bedroom window. Unbeknownst to him, this autumn would not be a happy one. Maybe, that’s why they call it “fall”. Everything is about to fall apart, one by one. Day by day, down to the hours, minutes, and seconds.

 

_ It’s a shame he doesn’t know what’s going to happen _ .

 

“Kyung-ah,” a melodic voice comes from the doorway, and he stops. A smile spreads on his face as he looks over his shoulder. It’s Jongin; messy hair, bright eyes, and a sparkling smile. He has a cup of coffee in his hands, warming the center of his palms against the ceramic mug. 

After a long inhale, Kyungsoo lets out a sigh, a smirk on his plump lips. “Good morning to you, too,” he replied.

His hands were like snakes. Garter snakes. Harmless, but powerful small creatures that slithered around the waist of his younger husband. They hissed against the fabric of his cashmere sweater. Soft. Comforting.  _ Home _ .

“Let’s go out for breakfast.” Jongin chimed, looking down at Kyungsoo with adoration in his eyes and a smile that couldn’t get much bigger on his face.

“Ah…” Kyungsoo began.  _ This is where it all began. _ “Nini, I have to go to work early. I don’t have time. C-Can we do it after work? Dinner?”

“Oh.”

This was the first sound of Do Kyungsoo’s life falling apart. Piece by piece. Day by day, down to the hours, minutes, and seconds.  
“Y-Yeah! We can do dinner, of course we can do dinner!” Jongin forced a convincing laugh, shaking his head. “Why couldn’t we do dinner?”

“I love you,” Kyungsoo replied, kissing Jongin on the forehead gently. The garter snakes around his waist loosened their constriction. They fell to the side of the body that owned them, the last feeling of the cashmere sweater on the tips of their heads. Gone.  _ Leaving _ .

He turned away from his husband and swung open their wardrobe doors. He didn’t bother to look back at him as he put together his outfit in the mirror, a professional pair of khakis and a button up white shirt.

 

7:17 AM.

 

Kyungsoo finishes readying himself and gathers his needed belongings. Phone, keys, wallet and laptop bag. He swings it over his left shoulder and adjusts it so his laptop is at his right side. He sighs. “Have a good day!” He chimes, smiling at his husband as he quickly gets himself a tumbler full of black coffee. Once prepared, he wastes no time slipping on his shining black work shoes and swinging open the door to their house. Soon after, the car engine starts, and within a singular minute, Jongin is alone.

Jongin didn’t want to make Kyungsoo feel bad. He didn’t want to mention  _ it _ and cause him to call off work last minute. Maybe, somehow, he didn’t forget. Maybe he knew, and he was just pretending. Jongin really hoped that was the case.

Today is August 13th and today marks Kyungsoo and Jongin’s two year anniversary. On this day, 730 days ago, they had gotten married under the moonlight in Akita Prefecture, Japan.

Jongin wasn’t very picky about where he wanted to marry. Kyungsoo, on the other hand, had a  _ very _ specific idea. An idea he wasn’t going to differ from. A dream. He had always talked about getting married in Japan —i t was just  _ something  _ he had always wanted. Some sort of fantasy that Jongin was ready to fulfill in a heartbeat —h e really wasn’t very picky at all.

So paying too much money on a round-trip flight and a 5-star hotel didn’t affect Jongin like you’d think it would. Truthfully, he had stars in his eyes the entire five hour and twenty-minute long flight next to his husband-to-be as he stared out the window.  _ Of course he got the window seat _ . It was part of Kyungsoo’s very specific dream.

They stayed for 7 days and 6 nights, entangled in each other as they drank too much and cared too little. On the third day in what seemed like paradise, Jongin and Kyungsoo traveled to the border between Aomori and Akita prefectures, their destination being one Honshu island at Lake Towada.

Arriving, the look on Kyungsoo’s face was only something Jongin could describe as angelic. They stumbled out of the taxi, the only thought on their minds that within hours, they would be married. Together.  _ Forever _ .

Their specific place of marriage was, also, chosen by Kyungsoo. The Towada Shrine. He saw it in a movie once, as a child, and fell in love with the elegance and the beauty of the landmark paired with the nature around it. He knew this was where he wanted to declare his eternal love.

Sure, he knew it was cliche and it sounded like some sort of fairytale, but that’s what weddings are, right? It’s a day to live in a fairytale, surrounded by magic and joy. A picture perfect time with the person you love the most.  _ Yes _ .  _ That’s exactly what Kyungsoo wanted _ .

It was 9:30 PM when they recited their vows and told each other “I do.” They kissed in their matching black suits and Jongin swears he could feel the huge smile on Kyungsoo’s face against his lips. They were happy. Together.  _ Forever _ .

 

Now, Jongin traces the outline of Kyungsoo’s body in one of their framed wedding pictures. It’s them, sitting on the edge of the lake as Jongin leans his head onto Kyungsoo’s shoulder. His heart swells, a smile on his face. It feels like this photo was taken yesterday.

The scent of the evening autumn air paired with a bit of fireball whiskey from their lips was so vivid in Jongin’s mind. He thinks he can almost still smell it.

He breaks from his daydream and sets down the portrait. Kyungsoo wouldn’t forget this. He couldn’t forget this—it was too special to him.

 

Nothing would happen that night. At least, nothing like Jongin had imagined.

 

Kyungsoo had pulled into their shared driveway three hours later than he was usually supposed to be home. Tired, he stumbled out of the car with his laptop case in hand. Jongin wasn’t happy to see him, even though he should have been.

This was the beginning of their downfall. Of course, they had small disagreements here and there before, but this was their first  _ real  _ fight. Their first yelling back and forth. Their first sleeping in different rooms.

The look on Jongin’s face when Kyungsoo walked through the door was enough to let Kyungsoo know that he was in trouble. 

Something inside Jongin fell apart. Something set him off. “Where were you?”

 

“Working late.”

 

“Did you forget?”

 

“ _ Forget what? _ ”

 

That was all Jongin needed to hear. Kyungsoo, with two simple words, confirmed one of his worst fears in a few split seconds. This was the first time Kyungsoo was the cause of the tears welling in the corners of Jongin’s eyes. However, sadly, this wouldn’t be the last time either.

 

“I’m sorry,” a female voice rang, and Kyungsoo snapped back to the reality he was ever-so-tragically trapped in. It was Kim Jungah, Jongin’s sister, and she had tears in her eyes—the makeup on her face streaking ever-so-slightly. “It wasn’t your fault, you know…” She paused, sniffling and staring at the casket in front of them. “H-He was… Sort of going through a rough-”

“Stop.” He cut her off. “Just stop.” There was nothing that could be said to him that could make him feel better at this point in time. Kyungsoo knows that this was his fault. He knew that his words had caused this. He looked down at his shoes and couldn’t get the words out of his head — those  _ stupid _ ,  _ selfish _ words.  _ Who says something like that to someone they claim to love? _

 

Everything around Kyungsoo felt heavy. His entire life with Jongin played through his head, scene by scene, down to every last detail. In particular, every memory from that fall stuck out the most.

 

Jongin had never slept in a separate room from Kyungsoo since the day they began dating. It was always them, entangled in each other between silky white sheets and a big blue comforter. Together.  _ Forever _ .

He felt upset. Betrayed, even, that Kyungsoo could forget such an important day in their lives.  _ And he was just so fine with it _ . Kyungsoo didn’t even think twice about what he had forgotten. No. His work consumed him. It was the first time Jongin felt hurt by him, and in the back of his head, he knew it wasn’t going to be the last. He wouldn’t acknowledge that thought, though. Not consciously.

 

Jongin cuddled up on the couch with his three dogs: Monggu, Jjanggu, and Jjangah, his three loving Poodle companions. Whenever he was upset, these little furry friends would melt away his worries with puppy-dog eyes and wet kisses.

Tonight, Jongin needed these things. He didn’t mean to yell at Kyungsoo as he did, but  _ he did _ , and it sent him to the living room. Alone. Monggu curled up at the end of the couch, right behind Jongin’s slightly bent legs. He lay on his side, Jjanggu and Jjangah laying against his chest and against his back, respectively. A hand gently scratches behind the ear near his chin. “Jjanggu,” he whispers. “Today was a rough day.”

Jjanggu seemed to understand and snuggled closer to his owner, nudging him with the tip of his nose for more attention.

“I know, I love you, too.”

By 2:17 A.M., Jongin was fast asleep and in his dreams, tomorrow was better.

 

It was gradual. The next morning they were nearly back to normal. Over coffee, Jongin mentioned their two-year anniversary and Kyungsoo pleaded his sorries. At first glance, everything seemed okay. The argument was petty and it had passed. There would be no more. Or at least, none that they could predict.

 

Kyungsoo smiled to himself. It was foolish for him to think that was the end of it.  _ Really, it was just the beginning. _

 

A few simple weeks passed and the next part of the tragedy took place. Jongin had finally received the promotion he had been striving for and attended a party in celebration. Each friend, relative and co-worker Jongin had was there with him. Supporting him. Celebrating.

Though out of all the people Jongin wanted — no,  _ needed _ _ — _ to come, his most important guest didn’t show. Do Kyungsoo, the  _ only  _ person Jongin wanted to see on this day, was working. Late. Again.

There was only so much Jongin could take. Two consecutive important events in his life, disregarded by the one he loved most for a few extra dollars a week. He didn’t understand.  _ How could someone value money over spending time with their loved one? _

It wasn’t even like Kyungsoo  _ needed  _ the money. The two of them were set for life. They weren’t rich, but they were well off; really, he didn’t even  _ need  _ to work at all. Jongin worked and Kyungsoo just had to be there for him. That’s all he ever asked.

 

Over the mildly too loud music in the office, everyone around Jongin chattered and cheered as the congratulatory cake was brought out. On it, his name framed in sparkling candles illuminated the room when the lights went off. They all yelled in unison when he blew out the candles, and he smiled. On his face, he displayed his joy, but in his chest, the heavy feeling of missing his husband kept sinking his ribcage lower and lower into his abdomen. It had to get better. It will get better, right?

 

The color of Jongin’s casket was a dark red mahogany. Closed, of course. The damage to his body couldn’t be fixed enough for those around him to see his face one last time. The irreversible damage was in no way presentable. It only showed the evidence of what had happened.

Kyungsoo rested his hand on the top of the polished wood, leaning forward and placing his forehead against the cold surface. “I’m sorry,” he muttered. “I love you.”

He knew he wasn’t supposed to cry, but a tear escaped down his cheek and landed on the house for Jongin’s lifeless body. He swiped it away with the fabric on his wrist. He isn’t allowed to show emotion, as that is weakness — and men aren’t weak.

 

He suddenly felt light headed, and he knew he had to step out. “I’m sorry,” he apologized, stepping past people, “excuse me.” He continued.

The bathroom wasn’t far away. It was only out the door and down the hall, actually, but to Kyungsoo it felt like a mile. His legs were heavy, dragging behind him like bricks.

 

When he reached the bathroom he closed himself in, locking the door. “It’s okay.” He told himself, breathing heavy. The anxiety was coming again and he had to calm himself down before he broke. He couldn’t help it. Not being able to cry when he knew that his husband’s death was his own fault was an impossible task to him. He still loved him. He never stopped.

 

“I’m sorry.” Kyungsoo whispered again, bringing the tattered photo up in front of his face. “You didn’t deserve this, Nini.”

It was the photo from their wedding, the one on the side of the lake with Jongin’s head in the crook of his neck. It brought him a bitter combination of comfort and regret, but it felt right. It was the only intimacy he had with Jongin now. This… Glossy piece of paper. That was all Jongin was now: a fragile, disposable item.

 

In hindsight, the both of them should have known that it would have all fallen apart eventually. They were told the stories about how marriage ruins relationships—about how they’ll only come to tolerate each other instead of loving. They didn’t believe it, though. They thought they were an exception. That they were different.

 

Kyungsoo doesn’t hate love. He never did. But how all of his little, minute decisions affected his life so badly made him wish he never felt love in the first place. Then, Jongin would be alive, right? This wouldn’t have happened, and Kyungsoo wouldn’t look in the mirror to see a murderer.

 

There’s so many memories for Kyungsoo to recall. The first few mistakes were just the accents on the design of his failure to keep his marriage intact. Useless. Fillers.

 

The real memory that matters is the night of the accident.  _ Can he even call it an accident? _

 

November 24th, 2018

 

Jongin tapped his foot while he waited in the living room by the window. Across from him, he eyed the no-longer-hot cups of hot chocolate he had set out for him and Kyungsoo for when he got home.

 

Of course, he was late. He couldn’t say “again” anymore, since it was every other night, now. Somehow, though, Jongin still had faith and he let his stupid confidence in his husband get the best of him and waste two mugs worth of milk.

It was 2:57 AM. Kyungsoo got off work at Midnight, and he never even got a steady answer about what was making him so late. It was always just “I’m sorry, Jongin-ah. I have so much to do. I’ll try to be quicker tomorrow.”

 

If he didn’t know any better, he would think he was being cheated on. Thankfully, at least, that was one thing Jongin knew Kyungsoo couldn’t do. Cheat.

That didn’t give him much comfort, though. If he was being cheated on at least he would have an answer for his husband’s absence. As it was, it stayed… unknown. A mystery. A secret.

  
  


_ Finally.  _ He thought, as Kyungsoo’s car came rolling in like it did every other night.  _ He’s here. _

 

Somehow Kyungsoo was blinded into thinking nothing was wrong, that him and Jongin were happy. Okay. Fine. Somehow he didn’t realize the stress and depression he was causing in the person he loved so much (or so he claimed to).

 

“I’m home!” He chimed, closing the door behind him as he slipped of his shoes. “What’s that smell? Hm? Chocolate?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“What did you make?”

 

“Hot chocolate.” He stated, nodding his head in the direction of the two mugs. “It’s kind of cold chocolate about now.”

 

“Oh,” Kyungsoo realized. “Oh, Nini, I’m sorry. It’s because I was late again, huh?”

 

Jongin didn’t reply.

 

“I’m really sorry, I-”

 

“You aren’t, Kyungsoo.” He snapped. He was tired. Finished. “You aren’t sorry, because if you were, you would have been home on time. You wouldn’t have forgotten our second anniversary, you wouldn’t have missed my promotion party, you wouldn’t have stopped touching me like you did the first day we met, you-”

Speaking was hard. Jongin felt like there was a tennis ball in his throat, obstructing his ability to vent out every little mistake Kyungsoo had made since  _ this  _ started and it took multiple attempts to swallow. He clenched his fists.

 

“Nini, I-”

 

“ _ You don’t get to call me that. _ ”

 

“What?”

 

“You… You don’t get to call me that.” Jongin stumbled over his words a bit, trying not to cry as he spoke. “You haven’t treated me like you’ve cared in months. Maybe even close to a year, Kyungsoo. A year!” He shouted, standing up and pointing at his wasted mugs of hot chocolate.

 

“There’s so much shit you’ve missed and it’s like you don’t even care half of the time!”

 

Kyungsoo shook his head. “No, you’re wrong.”

 

“How the  _ fuck  _ am I wrong, huh, Kyung-ah?” He frowned, clenching his fists harder.

 

“You’re just wrong.” He replied, taking a step forward. He handled this so well. At least, up until Jongin made a remark that nearly hit the bullseye to his beating heart.

 

“You’re a shitty person, Do Kyungsoo. A shitty person, and an even shittier husband. I-I’m starting to hate you. I can’t love you when you treat me like this.”

 

_ Why was that the thing that hurt him most?  _ Out of everything Jongin has said to him over the past months of them arguing, somehow that was the worst thing for him to hear.  _ A shitty husband? _

It’s as if it made Kyungsoo realize; snap back to reality. He put down his laptop bag on their couch, the one they used to cuddle up on to watch Lord of The Rings and laugh at each other’s bad repetitions of the english lines. Breathe in. Breathe out.

 

“Shitty?”

 

“Absolutely fucking awful.” Jongin snapped. “That’s how you’re treating me.”

 

The worst part was that Kyungsoo knew he wasn’t wrong. He knew that he had been neglecting him. Abandoning him. Everyday since god knows how long, he’s been acting like a selfish prick. His job seemed more important in the eyes of outsiders than the love he was supposed to be giving to his husband, and he never thought about it until now. But thinking about it didn’t give him clarity—it gave him hostility.

 

“Shut up.” He said.  _ Why did he say that? _

 

“Shut up?” Jongin repeated, clarifying.

 

“Shut up.” He confirmed.  _ That’s what he should be doing right now. _

 

He could see the upset look in his husband’s eyes, growing with his every word.  _ Why didn’t he just shut himself up? _

The escalation was quick. Sudden, as Jongin grabbed a picture off the table closest to him and smashed it at his feet. This is where the ‘accident’ began. He’s still not sure if he could even call it that.

 

Avoiding his feet slamming down onto the shards, Jongin maneuvered around and pointed to himself, his voice raising as he spoke. “Look at me.” He demanded. “Look at me, Do Kyungsoo!”

 

But he couldn’t.

 

“Jongin you don’t understand.” He started, softly. “I’m trying my best-”

 

“Your best sucks.” He retorted. “Your best really, really fucking sucks.”

 

“Well that’s all you get!” He yelled. “You get my best, okay?!”

 

The picture frame wasn’t the only thing broken.

 

“You know what?” Kyungsoo continued, walking over and picking up the two mugs of no-longer-hot hot chocolate. “I think you need to leave.” He said, walking over and pouring the liquid down the drain in the kitchen. “Space. You need space. I need space. So… So get the fuck out of my house, okay?”

 

“You’re kicking me out.” Jongin stated.

 

“I’m telling you we need time apart.”

 

“ _ You’re kicking me out. _ ” He said again.

 

“Fine! Okay. Yeah, fine. I’m kicking you out, because I’m so bad, huh? Because I’ve never went through anything with you, huh?” Kyungsoo put the cups in the sink harshly, turning on his heel to look back at the man he loved so much (or so he claimed to) standing in the middle of the living room.

 

“I can’t believe you, Kyungsoo.” He paused, looking around for his jacket to grab. “I. I never,  _ ever, w _ ant to see you again.” He said, finally finding and putting on his winter-thick coat.

 

“ _ You never want to see me again? _ ” Kyungsoo asked, chuckling to himself.  _ Why was he laughing? Stop laughing, you fucking idiot. _ “I never want to see you again, either.” He commented.

“Actually.” He walked over to the door, grabbing the knob with an aggressive grip before swinging it open. “I don’t want to ever see you again, even if it’s at your funeral.”

 

Jongin broke, too, that night. Into a dozen different bloody pieces, literally and figuratively, scattered onto a cement sidewalk.

 

He said nothing as he stormed out, the cold AM air hitting his nose and making it painful to breathe. This was it: the very beginning of how Kyungsoo ended up where he was in present day.

 

His sneakers pounded on the ground as he walked, letting his own weight weigh him down, almost making him slow to a stop. On him was his phone and his wallet, the only things he managed to luckily have ready when he left. He knew where he was going now; there was no doubt in his head.

 

Living so close to the city was a blessing and a curse at this point in Jongin’s life. Perhaps, Kyungsoo thinks, if they lived further away, maybe he would have just came back home. But he didn’t.

Honestly, Jongin didn’t even notice himself crying until the tears started falling off his cheeks; hitting the back of the hand he blankly stared at without reason. “Fuck.” He whispered, smiling to himself. Was he overreacting? Or was this a long time coming? He would never know to find out.

 

The hotel was a 25 minute walk, and Jongin had been treading on for an amount of time he wasn’t keeping track of. The surroundings, Kim’s Convenience, the dog park, and the dead-end road that led to a children’s playground, gave away his location and he knew he only had to walk to a bit more.  _ Almost there _ .

 

Back at home, Kyungsoo shook his leg as he sat. Was he too rude?  _ Yes, you were fucking horrid. _ He didn’t know. The phone he had laying beside him on the couch was tempting. Alluring, but he knew that Jongin would only accept his call as victory.  _ Why did you care so much about your ego? He would still be here if you called, you asshole. _ He sighed.

 

“It’ll be okay.” He told himself. “It’s always been okay before.”

 

“Can I get a room please?” Jongin’s voice was low, pulling out his credit card as he spoke. “Just for tonight. Oh, and… Can I get access to the roof?”

 

“The roof is closed off to guests, is there a reason why you would want up there?”

 

“Yeah.” Jongin bullshitted his way through this. “I’m sorry, my niece was messing around on the rooftops of some places day before yesterday. She left her camera up there when she heard some people coming. I just want to get it for her.”

 

“Oh.” The lady said, thinking for a moment. “I think I could take you up there to get your niece’s camera. That wouldn’t be a problem.”

 

“Thank you so much.”

 

He took the key he was given and went to the elevator, the receptionist close behind with her master set of keys to the building. “I’m sorry for the trouble.” He pleaded, softly.

 

“Oh it’s okay!” She said, smiling. “Kids do that a lot. You’re not the first guardian I’ve had to take to the roof. Somehow they just get up there. It’s fun for them, I guess?”

 

“Yeah.” Jongin agreed, forcing a smile back. She was nice. He felt bad.

 

When the elevator dinged, the woman led Jongin out and down the hall to a stairway door that said “EMPLOYEES ONLY” on the front. Inserting a key, she twisted the knob and pushed it open to reveal the staircase behind. “Up there.” She pointed, specifically at a door that illuminated with outside city lights through the small gaps between it and the wall and floor. “When you’re done, you can close this door and it will lock again. Please be careful!”

 

_ Careful _ . Jongin laughed to himself. He wasn’t going to be careful.

 

The nice woman retreated, back down the hallway and into the elevator again. She was now gone, headed back down to her post in the lobby for new and leaving customers to consult her in need.

 

Pressing open the door was almost cinematic: the wind blew his hair back and the view was ethereal. To most, it would be calming, but to Jongin it was simply something to look at. For now.

In his pocket, he grabbed his phone and pulled it out, staring at the empty lock screen. Kyungsoo hasn’t tried to call or text. Did he really not care all of this time? It hurt him, and the tears started coming back.

 

“Stupid.” He mumbled, stepping onto the concrete roof and shutting the door behind him. “Stupid, stupid, stupid.”

 

Taking the chance, Jongin swiped his finger across the screen and opened his phone app. He quickly punched in the keys, the beeps resonating back like a song, and he put the phone up to his ear.

 

“Answer the phone, Do Kyungsoo.”

 

_ Ring Ring Ring _

 

Kyungsoo frowned. It was Jongin. Was he calling to yell at him more? To tell him he was shitty again?  _ No, he wanted help, and you didn’t give it to him.  _ Space, he thought. They just needed some space.

 

_ Decline Call _

 

“ _ Hello, It’s Kyungsoo. Right now I’m busy, so leave a message and I’ll call you back as soon as I can. Thank you, bye. _ ”

 

At this point Jongin was sobbing; falling. He shut his eyes tightly as if not seeing anything would solve everything, and the beep startled him. He honestly didn’t have any words to speak. Breathe in. Breathe out.

He stood, and the sound of his sneakers on the concrete made a soft crunching noise, letting him know he was subconsciously walking forward. Breathe in. Breathe out.

 

On the edge of the building, he gazed over. His eyes locked with rushing cars and passing people as he still had the phone held up to his ear, crying. “I…” He whispered. He’s not even sure if that would have been loud enough for his phone’s microphone to detect.

 

_Jump._ _Fall_.

 

He just let himself go. The sound of rushing air sounded like hushed, hoarse screaming and within a few tranquil seconds, the sound of everything snapping and breaking brought a sudden silence.

 

If Jongin was still alive, he would have heard the screams of bystanders who witnessed his body crash and bust onto the ground. He would have seen people driving by slamming on their breaks and some people even pulling over, yanking out their phones for gruesome pictures and calls to 9-1-1. If he was still alive, he would be able to lift his head and see the mess his body had made.

But Jongin wasn’t alive. The force of his fall shattered his skull, alongside his ribcage and various other bones in his body. Blood trickled out of his mouth, nose, and ears, and there were dozens of internal injuries no one could see. His ruptured organs, burst blood vessels, and split-open skin covered by clothes were just smaller details for the coroner to find later on.

 

“The I.D. on him says his name is Kim Jongin. He lives about two miles from here. Age twenty-four.” The officer spoke, staring at the scene in front of him. “I wonder why he did it.”

 

“Who knows.” Another officer replied, leaning down next to his body as he collected evidence. “He has a wedding ring, though. We should visit the address to tell the spouse.”

 

_ Knock Knock Knock _

 

“Mmh…” Kyungsoo groaned, rolling over on the couch. “Just come in, Jongin…” He mumbled, pulling the blanket he had over his head.

 

_ Knock Knock Knock _

 

“No.” He whined. “We can talk tomorrow.”

 

_ Knock Knock Knock _

 

“Ugh.” Kyungsoo sat up, ruffling his hair and quickly getting onto his feet. “Kim Jongin just come inside!” He yelled, walking to the door. “You still live here you kn-”

 

“Are you the spouse of Kim Jongin?” One of the officers asks when the door swings open, looking down at the I.D. in his hand.

 

“Yeah…” Kyungsoo nods, frowning. “Yeah. He’s my husband.”

 

“We found his body outside the entrance to The Grand Hotel.”

 

Suddenly he was awake. His eyes widening, and panic painting over his face. “His… body.”

 

“Yes. We got a call at around 3:54 AM that someone had jumped off the roof. When we and the paramedics arrived, the body found had this I.D. in his wallet…” The officers continued to explain, speaking back and forth with things about how the receptionist let him onto the roof and how they were so sorry for his loss. “The only other thing on him was a cell phone and his wallet. We’re absolutely positive this wasn’t foul play, but we would like to take you in to ask you some questions anyw-”

 

“My phone.” Kyungsoo cut him off, voice cracking as he rushed back to the couch. “Jesus fucking Christ, where’s my phone.”

 

He was shoving things off the coffee table, and the officers watched silently. They’ve done this before, but it’s always so hard to watch people realize someone they love is gone. Suddenly, he found his phone under a few papers, and he unlocked it as quickly as he could.

 

In the upper left corner, his phone app had a red ‘2’ notification. One missed call and one voicemail.

 

“Please no.” He said, pressing his finger on the voicemail titled ‘Nini’.

 

It was… Quiet. Almost dead silent. The only thing Kyungsoo could hear was footsteps, and ever-so-light sniffling before that god-awful rush of air. The hushed, hoarse screaming. At first, he didn’t know what it was, but he quickly realized when the  _ woosh  _ quickly ended with a  _ snap! _

 

It was Jongin. Falling.

 

“No, no, no.” He repeated over and over, replaying the message as many times as he could before the officers interrupted him.

 

“Sir, we need you to come and talk to us.” They said. “We know this is hard, but we need you to tell us why he did this.”

 

“I-I made him do it.” He whispered. “I… Told him I didn’t want to see him ever again… I made him jump off that roof…”

 

“Sir, that’s not-”

 

“Can we do this tomorrow.” He begged, staring at his phone. “Please.”

 

“Uh…” The police looked at each other. “Yeah… Sure. Give us your phone number. We can call and come back tomorrow.”

 

Kyungsoo was quick to scribble the numbers on a piece of paper and hand it over, tears welling at his eyes as he shut the door. “Goodbye.” He said, mostly to himself.

 

When he stared across the living room, he saw him and Jongin. Together.

 

“I love you.” Jongin said, smiling as he took his turn. They were playing Monopoly, one of their favorite board games, and Kyungsoo was letting him win as usual.

 

“I love you, too, Nini.” He said, leaning over the board to plant a kiss on his lips. “So, so much.”

  
  


Right now, for Kyungsoo, everywhere he looked in his house, he saw Jongin. He saw them. Happy. Together.  _ Forever _ .

 

In the kitchen, there was Jongin sitting on the counter, cake batter smeared on his cheek as he laughed loudly. He begged for mercy, pouting his lips as he pleaded “Kyung-ah, please don’t!” Of course, Kyungsoo didn’t listen, though, slapping more sticky vanilla batter on his face.

 

In the hallway, they both crouched behind opposite walls with their matching nerf guns. Giggling, they kept leaning out to shoot at one another with bursts of laughter each time they got hit.

 

The bedroom. They were tangled in each other in the early morning, kissing for what felt like hours before they would get up for their coffee. In love.

 

The living room. Jongin laid on Kyungsoo’s lap, smiling as his hair was pet whilst they watched The Phantom of The Opera. Sometimes, they’d clear out the middle of the room, reenacting some scenes together in the most romantically dramatic way possible.

 

Right now, for Kyungsoo, everywhere he looked in his house, he saw what he used to have just yesterday. He saw what was now just a bunch of memories.

 

A knock on the bathroom door brought him back to where he currently was in his life, staring at the tattered wedding photo in his hands. “Mr. Do?” A voice rang, softly speaking to him. “Would you like to speak now?”

 

Right, he thought, he forgot he had to speak. He had to say something about his husband.

 

“Yes.” He replied. “Thank you.”

 

He gave one last longing look at the picture before putting it back in his pocket, unlocking the door. With a sigh, he wiped his tears, opened the door, and exited.

 

Everyone looked as he re-entered the room, but his eyes were only on the red mahogany casket 15 feet away from him. “Hello,” he mouthed, walking up past the people here for the same reason he was.  _ Past the people here because he was the reason this all happened _ .

 

“Kim Jongin,” he started when he reached the podium, wasting no time, “I’m sorry.”

 

Everyone looked confused, but they still silently listened.

 

“I’m sorry that on our two year anniversary, I forgot. I’m sorry that when you got promoted, I was too busy working to come to your celebration.” He took in a shaky breath, clenching the sides of the podium in front of him tightly. “I’m sorry that I stopped touching you, that I started making you feel like I no longer loved you.”

 

He smiled to himself.

 

“I’m sorry I was shitty.” He laughed.

 

“I’m sorry that I didn’t get to tell you all of this, and what I’m going to say next, because I was caught up in myself this whole time.”

 

Kim Jungah watched from the front row, nodding as the tears stained her painted-pink cheeks.

 

“I’m sorry that I said I never wanted to see you again. I know you didn’t mean it when you said it to me, and I should have never said it back. Especially… Especially how I did.” Kyungsoo shifted. He didn’t want to stand there anymore, so he moved to behind the casket, placing both hands on the cold outside.

 

“Jongin, I owe you an explanation. I hid the reason behind my late nights for so long, and I thought I’d see the day to tell you in person. Unfortunately, my selfish, shitty remarks led to this… Me… Speaking to you for the last time in front of all these people.”

 

He gently reached into his pocket, pulling out a piece of folded paper. Unfolding it, he walked around and knelt to where he assumed Jongin’s head would be. “I know I didn’t have to work, but I wanted to. For this.”

 

He placed the paper up against the casket, reading back to himself the confirmation number for their flight back to Japan. “To renew our vows.” He said.

 

“When I told you I never wanted to see you again, I lied… I wanted to see you again, Nini. I still do.”

 

Pause.

  
“I love you.  _ Forever _ .”

**Author's Note:**

> this was... interesting to write. i really hope that i did the prompt justice and wrote it with enough feeling as i intended to. it's slightly rushed, but please leave comments & let me know what you think! thanks so much for giving me this prompt to write.


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